


The Ballad of the Boob Sweater

by ThePugAddict



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: I Blame Tumblr, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Marked Ardyn x OC for references and later chapter, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, blame our rotten imaginations too, boob window sweaters oh my
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 06:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10182890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePugAddict/pseuds/ThePugAddict
Summary: A.K.A. The story of what happens when you tear down the fabulous chancellor of Niflheim for his sense of fashion.Based on the famous Ardyn boobsweater meme that plagued Tumblr and reached the holy eyes of Darin DePaul himself. All thanks to tumblr artist @jlavisant.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my friends, and welcome to another short fanfic pulled straight from my ass. For those of you who are wondering where I've been, blame Tumblr. You can especially blame @jlavisant for inspiring me to create this, based on this beauty: http://jlavisant.tumblr.com/post/156867991019/everybody-go-draw-ardyn-in-a-boob-window-sweater .
> 
> This is so well overdue, but here it is. Enjoy!

No one was as fabulous as Ardyn Izunia.

 

Throughout his long life, though he’d been a fabulous man in different ways, he was nonetheless as fabulous as the day he was born. And that was fabulous on a godly level.

 

In the beginning of his fabulous life, he started off as a hero in a fairytale. First, he became a fabulous king. Second, a fabulous healer. Saving the world and being loved by all, that fabulous man sparkled so bright that even the brightest stars in the sky were put to shame. Oh yes, back in those fabulous days, Ardyn had it all. How could things have been any more… well… _fabulous_?

 

Sadly, later on, being a fabulous hero was no longer an option. By the cruelty of the gods, that role was stripped from him in the blink of an eye, and the poor, fabulous man was cursed to live forever alone. Still, not even the gods were powerful enough to take away his fabulousness. That was when Ardyn discovered a great truth: if he couldn’t be a fabulous king, he could be fabulous in other ways.

 

As the ages passed, fabulous old Ardyn watched civilization transform before his eyes. Above all, human behavior was the most entertaining to watch. Paying very close attention, the fabulous man witnessed the not-so-fabulous changes in his fellow mortals. Oh, how funny it was to watch them sometimes! People were growing smarter in some ways, yet they were somehow getting dumber in others. They had gotten bored, lazy, sneaky, bratty, whiney, bitchy, hungry, horny, greedy… Oh. And offended. _Very_ _easily_ offended. Though in spite of these many un-fabulous changes, the most important change was how superficial everyone had gotten. Believe it or not, humans _knew_ they were getting less fabulous. So, to compensate for the loss of fabulousness in some areas, they decided to make themselves more fabulous in others—in particular, if they couldn’t get smarter, then why not get prettier instead?

 

Well, that certainly explained mankind’s sudden obsession with beauty. Since the growth of commercialism, the cosmetic industry had exploded like crazy. Good lord, it was just _unbelievable_ how many trends passed in a decade with cosmetology, hair, fitness and fashion! And how the mortals weren’t bothered by all the countless new products, services and clothes being thrown at them (and onto them) was entirely beyond him.

 

But that didn’t stop him from taking advantage.

 

~ooo~

 

No one looked as fabulous as Ardyn Izunia.

 

Every day, everywhere, from the streets of Niflheim to the spot beside the emperor’s throne, all eyes were on him.

 

Who could have resisted such fabulous looks on a fabulous man? Every day, his fashion game was on point! The hottest fashionistas of the world had nothing on the Chancellor of Niflheim; the subordinates he dealt with on a daily basis were simply out of the question. While all the delegates walked into meetings in their drab white robes, the chancellor strutted in with the sexiest dark colors of the season. The intricate black coat was an eye-popping statement to all who dared to stare. His fedora—a suave little piece—brought attention to his sultry amber eyes and smooth wine-colored locks. The matching pants and vest screamed class as well as the boots and collar, and to top it off was the luxurious red scarf for a little pop of color. Though none of the imperial figures gave a damn in the world about petty things like beauty, they couldn’t deny the inevitable truth—Ardyn was gorgeous. He was a bottle of million-gil champagne, sitting on the shelf of a cheap wine cellar. In his own special way, he had become a fabulous king all over again.

 

Then, one day, the fabulous king fell from grace a second time.

 

 On a warm and sunny afternoon in Gralea, the chancellor decided to make a brief stop at his favorite nearby café after one of his daily meetings. _Café Bianca_ , it was called—a small coffee shop in the high-class district of the city. Other than being famous for its stupidly overpriced yet delicious food, it had a dual reputation as the favorite hang-out spot for society’s most beautiful people, and though Ardyn never went there to socialize, he fit into that scene pretty well. Not to mention, it had become his favorite pastime to be everyone’s judge and silently critique the customers’ looks, simply because he was the most fabulous living thing on the face of the planet and therefore had the authority to do it. With another meeting starting in an hour, and with a massive craving for a 12-ounce vanilla latte with soy milk, he hoped that place wasn’t busy right now.

 

Thankfully, when he walked in, the café was basically empty. There were only about four or five customers inside: a group of high school girls sitting at a table by the window while watching passersby, plus a man talking to the barista at the counter.

 

While adjusting his fedora, Ardyn casually walked in and headed towards the counter. The girls by the window had already paused their conversation just to stare at him. Despite their sudden silence, he didn’t even care to look once in their direction. Feeling the beam of every pair of their eyes, he almost cracked a haughty smile. They didn’t deserve his attention. Little teenage wannabes _never_ deserved the attention of the beauty king.

 

Now, what about that gentleman at the counter?

 

Ardyn obviously couldn’t get a good look at the other man just from standing behind him. Nonetheless, his eyes turned to curious golden slits when he took note of his appearance. The first thing that caught his eye was the stranger’s appealing stature—like the chancellor, he was tall and fairly slender. From the back, his snow-white hair looked perfectly styled, falling in smooth, straight locks against the back of his neck. Though it couldn’t have been his natural color, his bleaching job was perfect, and not a single root was visible. Was he older, though? Ardyn couldn’t make a good guess at his age until he saw him give his credit card to the barista. He briefly glanced at his hand. Not a wrinkle—this one was definitely younger, maybe in his twenties, give or take. Also, did he just get a manicure?

 

But those were just little details that Ardyn disregarded very quickly. What struck him the hardest was the stranger’s outfit. The burgundy-haired man blinked twice before his eyes honed in on his clothes from top to bottom. For one thing, it wasn’t a style one would see every day on the streets of Gralea, even in a place like this. Besides the tan fur vest, his clothes were rather formfitting on his gangly frame: a white long-sleeve shirt, plus some red skinny jeans with glittery rhinestones on the pockets. Matching the vest was a pair of flashy fur boots probably twice as thick as his actual legs. In addition, he had a brown cross-body purse—err… shoulder bag—with a silver keychain that shamelessly resembled a dick and two balls.

 

Ardyn bit his lip. His judge mode was kicking into high gear. Had he not been such a gentleman, he would’ve scoffed out loud at this man’s fashion. _How outrageous_ , he would’ve said. _What the hell are you wearing? Did you steal that outfit from your little sister’s closet? You look ridiculous. You have no class_. These and many more insults he threw at him through a condescending stare, just so he could block out the truth about this young man’s outspoken fashion statement. It was a truth so disturbing that he would rather walk into a behemoth den wearing a meat dress than acknowledge it, lest he would feel an intimidating chill run down his spine, but no matter how he reacted, it was what it was. This man was _fabulous_.

 

Still, the truth wouldn’t be the thing that destroyed him.

 

Apparently, the chancellor had been so quiet that the stranger was unaware of his presence. To his error, the white-haired man had swiftly spun around to walk in Ardyn’s direction. A moderate collision followed, of course. In fact, the accident was frightening to watch in consideration of the 16-ounce sugar-free moogle mocha latte with skim milk in the stranger’s hand. Thankfully, the only casualties that resulted were a fallen fedora and a teeny splatter of latte on the floor. Though shaken by the bump, the chancellor quickly regathered his composure. “Oh, _dreadfully sorry_ ,” he said without making any eye contact. Looking down to check for stains, he quickly brushed the front of his coat and then sighed in relief when he found no flaws. He was about to bend over to grab his hat off the floor, but he paused when he felt a hand pressing on his shoulder.

 

Normally in a case like this, one would have expected a frantic apology from a stranger, or maybe a few words of care. Something polite, at least, unless the person was an uncivilized low-life douchebag. But what came out of this man’s mouth was different.

 

 “Sweetie, what the _hell_ are you wearing?”

 

Ardyn’s face was blank. At first, he suspected that either his brain was short-circuiting or the man was speaking a foreign language. Or, was his mind scrambled like an egg from looking at his face? The stranger was wearing a pair of red-tinted aviator sunglasses, but they didn’t hide the second awful truth…

 

This man was _beautiful_!

 

Like a fool, the chancellor stared back quietly, trying to process the words and face that had just assaulted him.

 

The other man wouldn’t stop there, however. With his pretty face warping into a disgusted snarl, he crossed his arms and clicked his tongue. His foxy eyes scanned Ardyn’s whole figure from top to bottom. Clearly, he was passing judgement on every single inch of him, perhaps more savagely than all the Astrals combined. With the accent of a 16-year-old valley girl, he spurted flamboyantly. “Really?” he muttered. “ _Really_?!”

 

Ardyn came back to his full senses. He blinked twice. “Pardon me?”

 

The male pointed at him. “That coat? With those pants? With that _scarf_? With that… ugh… _everything_?!”

 

The chancellor’s brow scrunched. He was taken aback by the realization of what was going on. It hit him harder than Loqi did from the back last night. He was talking about his outfit! _His outfit!_

 

The man touched his forehead, now staring at Ardyn’s clothes with a pained look. “Oh my god. Seriously, sir,” he said. “I think I’m having a freaking concussion just from trying to figure out what your style is. Like, are you trying to dress like a hobo, or did some washed-up rockstar use his clothes to buy cocaine from you?”

 

The barista was busy cleaning the counter, but Ardyn could tell she was listening from the way she pursed her lips, almost as if to keep herself from laughing. Unlike her, the girls in the corner didn’t bother to hold it in: all of them were looking at the men and giggling.

 

Ardyn’s face was redder than his hair. Despite the continuous attacks and the unwanted attention, he refused to act humiliated. “Excuse me, young man,” said the chancellor, putting his hands on his hips. “I’ll have you know that everything on me is a hundred-percent Giovani DeFranco brand. Clearly, that’s _far_ higher quality than your tawdry little teen clothes.”

 

Secretly, he desired that same giggle from the corner right after speaking. But alas, nothing.

 

The male cleared his throat quite loudly. “Well you excuse _me_!” he stressed snobbishly. “ _My_ clothes, unlike yours, are _not_ ridiculously outdated. In fact, they’re the latest that just got released from _my personal brand!_ Designed and owned by _me_ , _Larxie Loxlie_!”

 

Ardyn rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Oh, that’s rubbish.”

 

“Oh, you want a bet, sweetheart?”

 

Ardyn’s eye twitched when a small flash of words and numbers popped up just inches away from his face. Right away, the young critic had whipped out a small white card from his pocket, and with two of his pretty fingers, he showed it off to him. With a scowl, Ardyn snatched the little card, then honed his vision on the small black lettering, printed right over a faded-out image of a man’s nude torso.

 

**LUX**

**by Larxie Loxlie**

**Men’s and Women’s Fashion**

**330 Amethyst Ave.**

**Gralea, Niflheim**

 

“Mmmmm… Tell you what.” Flicking his hair softly, Larxie leisurely walked around the now dumbfounded man and headed for the exit. “I usually don’t get clients as old and wrinkly as you are,” he said, “but since my brain oddly can’t stop vomiting images of what you’d look like in a G-string, I still think there’s a little bit of hope for you… Why don’t you stop by the store at some point this week? I can totally fix you up.” Ardyn had thrown a glare at him from over his shoulder, but the white-haired beauty didn’t bother to look back at him. With but a half-assed twiddle of fingers at him while he sipped his drink, he propped the door open with his elbow, then gracefully exited the coffee shop.

 

Ardyn stood for a moment quietly, grimacing. The second Larxie left was when he slowly but furiously crumbled the business card within his fist, wishing the little piece of paper was the young man’s testicles instead.

 

The abrupt fall from grace was beyond intolerable right now. The once-fabulous man, once dripping in fashionable, beautiful glory, had now been dethroned in his own court… And by some (fabulous) little brat!

 

Also, did he say something about a G-string?

 

~ooo~

 

The once-fabulous chancellor went about his work day like nothing had happened. Putting on the usual charming smile and theatrical demeanor, no one would’ve suspected anything different about him, other than the strange, slight lack of glimmer. Would anyone have cared to point it out? Not really. But regardless of whether or not anyone noticed, the disgrace was there. The disgrace was real. Ardyn was reminded of how real it was with every moment it ate away at his already-withered soul.

 

It didn’t fully show until later that night when Ardyn got home from his last meeting. The final blow that urged it to come out was the sight of his closet in a whole new perspective. Hanging on the racks in his once-fabulous closet were dozens upon dozens of the exact same outfit he wore daily, black long coat included.

 

Oh, like a burst of diarrhea after days of constipation, _it came out indeed_.

 

The whole emotional turmoil probably lasted for six hours straight. By the time it was all over, he had sobbed his way through an ungodly number of mini chocolate fudge cakes and bottles of wine before he wound up on some bench in a nearby park. There, he cried himself to sleep before passing out at last. His once-fabulous fedora fell off and dropped next to him, its one wrinkle resembling a somber frown when it landed upside down.

 

During the night, a few people had come across the man in his unresponsive state. Perceiving him as asleep, none of them minded approaching him and throwing some spare change into his hat.

 

Morning came all too soon. Just a few minutes after a mother and her child walked by and threw a couple spare gil in Ardyn’s hat, the miserable man finally woke up. The sun burned his blood-shot eyes when he opened them. Thanks to last night’s one-man pity party, he felt as if a herd of chocobos had run over his body. His messed-up hair and clothes smelled strongly of alcohol and self-loathing. Good grief, as if yesterday wasn’t bad enough, this once-fabulous human was now a fucking _mess_.

 

Ardyn sat up, groaning as he ran his hand over his face. Dropping his hand into his lap, he looked forward and fell deep into thought.

 

Five minutes later, he reached into his pocket. He took out the business card from yesterday, still crumbled up into a ball. After carefully unfolding it and smoothing it out, his eyes skimmed over the address.

 

Was there still hope?

**Author's Note:**

> For updates on my fics and other extras, follow me on tumblr (@the-pug-addict) or on twitter (@The_Pug_Addict). Thanks again for reading!


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